unlikely
by captivation
Summary: It is a night to be relished – and that is exactly what Alicia Rivera and Cameron Fisher are doing. [for the twelve days of christmas challenge at coppertone wars - level one.]


**disclaimer: **unfortunately, i don't own the clique, these characters, or jack daniels.

s/o to lauren (insanities) for reminding me to include the disclaimer.

* * *

It's nice out tonight. A cool breeze is blowing, whispering in the ears of anyone who listens, and carressing skin. Stars are scattered across the charcoal sky, glowing lowly, and the atmosphere is calm and light. It is a night to be relished – and that is exactly what Alicia Rivera and Cameron Fisher are doing.

But the opposite pair have entirely disparate ideas of how it is to be enjoyed.

. . .

The bass, not the booze, has Alicia's head spinning – _reeling_, really – yet she's somehow euphoric. A faint smile illuminates her features as she stumbles through a horde of oscillating, perspiring bodies. She's stepped on a foot or two, but she is either ignored or unnoticed; the alcohol and the music seem to have tranquillised most people.

She is out of the throng and near the door when a large hand claps her on the shoulder, inhibiting movement. Alicia quirks an eyebrow and tilts her chin up. Her brown eyes meet Kemp Hurley's green ones, and she spies a devilish glint. He wants something – she is sure of it.

She watches him with a keen curiosity as he uses the same hand he halted her with to reach into his pocket (he's cradling a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other). Slowly – _annoyingly_ – he pulls out a pack of cigarettes and sways it above her head in an obvious attempt to tantalise her.

Alicia rolls her eyes and easily snatches the pack from his grasp.

"Marlboro," she remarks, inspecting it. "Nice."

She knows he is watching her, probably with expectancy. She _doesn__'__t _know whether the goosebumps on her skin stem from excitement or disgust.

Kemp has moved closer to her; the overwhelming scent of his malodorous cologne makes her very aware of this.

The girl puts on a face of mischief. She wants to play.

Alicia presses her lips against Kemp's jaw and entangles her slender fingers in his already disheveled hair. Her lips are then at his throat, and he is slithering his arm around her tiny waist. She smirks against his skin and moves to nip at his earlobe. Kemp's grasp tightens, but the brunette pulls back, wearing an amused grin. She extricates herself from his embrace, and laughs at the perplexed expression he has donned.

"Not tonight, Kemp." She wiggles a finger in his face, swipes the Jack from him, and saunters out of the door.

She can practically feel him glaring at her retreating form, and she loves it.

. . .

Cameron is sitting on the dock behind the Hotz estate with a guitar in his lap and a frayed notebook resting beside him.

Josh had shaken his head at Cam when he'd appeared with the instrument (_It's a _party; _music is going to be _blaring. _How the fuck are you gonna play that thing__?_)

Cam had responded with a good-natured grin. "I'm good at blocking things out."

And he is. The techno that is blasting from the house is nothing more than a distant hum to Cam. His guitar has his utter attention, and every note that he plays resounds.

He's feeling inspired tonight and is writing as much as he is strumming. Once he has a rhythm, he begins to jot notes down in the composition book, and he's pleased to have filled a couple of pages.

He is also happy about the lack of disturbances; but he realises he shouldn't be so surprised, for the few people on the lawn are too caught up in each other to take any notice of him.

Cam strums his guitar and smiles to himself.

. . .

Alicia's not searching for another being when she steps outside; she's searching for solitude. But all of the dark quiet corners have been stolen by inebriated teenagers with whiskey lips and wandering hands. She scowls, and her eyes find a lone soul residing on the dock. He probably does not want company, but she's already decided that she's going to provide him with some anyway.

. . .

His moment of peace cannot last forever.

Cam turns his head just as a brunette perches down beside him with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. He recognises her – he does not live beneath a rock – and wonders why she'd choose be away from the party. (Alicia Rivera is notorious for being a wild girl.) But, being who he is, he asks no questions. As long as she is quiet, he can ignore her.

. . .

Aside from the occasional plucking of a guitar string, they sit in noiselessness. She's releasing billows of smoke like a chimney, and he's writing and writing and writing. Cam doesn't even notice that she gets up until she has already returned, cigarette-free and brandishing a glass bottle.

Alicia takes a swig and shoves it in front of him.

"Want some?"

Cameron stares at the bottle, taken aback by the unexpected offer. He wants to answer, but demurs. Alicia waves a flippant hand in his face, as if shooing the nerves away.

"It's not going to kill you, Cam."

He's surprised she knows his name and sort of offended by the remark.

"I know that," he insists, taking the bottle from her. "I just wasn't sure if you were serious." As he brings it to his mouth, the liquid sloshes inside.

He takes a few gulps, hands it back to Alicia, and smiles at her in thanks. His focus is redirected to his composition book, but she soon disrupts his writing again.

"Do you want to be a musician or something?" She's looking at his guitar, and he pulls it closer to him. She snorts.

"It's just a hobby," Cam replies, "but it'd be nice if it turned out to be something more." The truth is, he really does want to be a musician, but he fears that admitting it will make it sound infeasible – unreachable.

Alicia raises her dark chocolate eyes to meet Cameron's heterochromatic ones; despite being different colours, they are both reminiscent of the sea, and Alicia believes one could drown in them. She tells him this, and she thinks he blushes in response, but it's difficult to tell in the dark. A soft laugh escapes her cherry lips.

"Play something for me, Pretty Eyes," she demands. A large grin is on her face, forcing Cam to comply.

He plays a short tune and by the end of it, she's laughing and clapping, and it's all so contagious (and he can't help but notice that she's so freaking beautiful) that he can't help but to chuckle with her.

Soon, they're talking again, and Alicia has a lot to say. She tells him about her thoughts on her reputation, how she wishes she could start over with a more immaculate record, but has learned to embrace the labels thrown at her. She tells him that she dreams about the future. She tells him that she is a romantic at heart (_like me_, he thinks, but doesn't dare say aloud).

Alicia is telling him things about herself that he would never believe if the words weren't falling from her mouth. Alicia has aspirations. He learns that she wants to be a dancer.

"And I'm talking about ballet," she says. "I can do more than just shake my ass."

She laughs but there is no mirth in her eyes.

"Ballet makes me feel beautiful," she admits, resting her head on his shoulder. "Dance is to me what music is to you – and don't try to deny it. You're a fucking liar, Cameron Fisher. The fact that you have a whole book dedicated to your music says it all: music is your passion."

He doesn't say anything. He just runs his calloused fingers through her silky hair, and they remain like that for a long time.

Cam is secretly unsettled by her comfort level, as well as his own. She's easy to be around, but he reminds himself that her drunken state is probably behind her amiability; this silly moment they are sharing will not be on her mind tomorrow. She's going to leave, and he's going to crash on Josh's couch, and when they wake up, they won't be the boy and girl who share similar dreams. They'll go back to being two disparate souls.

The thought induces melancholy, but it is a fact he has no choice but to accept.

* * *

**author's note: **i'm sorry the ending was kind of... bleh, but there was really no other way to put it. i kind of wanted to include the following day, but the fic would've ended up being too long, i think. i'll probably write a companion oneshot to this one day, though, so stay on the lookout. thanks for reading and i hope you enjoyed it. ^^


End file.
